


Between Dreaming and Reality

by Angie13



Category: Fairy Tales and Related Fandoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 18:31:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angie13/pseuds/Angie13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In one tale, you find a tongue in cheek reference to the pleasant dreams Sleeping Beauty had.  What no one bothers to mention is how that sort of thing can really change your point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Dreaming and Reality

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



She sometimes thought that maybe, just maybe, the well-intentioned Fairy had been rather less well-intentioned or even rather less absent-minded than everyone believed. Increasingly, the young queen began to suspect that the Good Fairy had really been the mirror-twin of the Bad Fairy and both were equally vindictive and creative in their venom. Of course, this was a belief that she kept to herself. No one in the kingdom, except perhaps one sympathetic soul, cared to hear a negative thing about the current golden age and its mythic roots.

With a sigh, the queen wound a glittering ribbon around the end of her sleek braid and stood, moving away from the bright window to return her brush to the dresser. Her toilet had been a point of contention between her and her husband; an insistence to manage by herself shocked a man who knew nothing outside of a pampered existence. Even the singular grand adventure that resulted in her hand came with attendants. The thorn wall had not allowed them past but, ever dutiful, they had lingered outside and awaited his triumphant return. Then, when he had stepped through the parting hedge with her pale hand in his, that solitude proved even more temporary as her own court and attendants trailed behind, just as willing to assist and aid as his own coterie.

That was yet another secret they shared, just between them, a wordless accord to protect the story of what truly happened in that tower room. Who knew marriage was made up of so many unspoken agreements and silent moments? If the impulse towards truth had ever moved her in those first honeymoon months, the idea had long since passed as duties settled into her hands. It became all the more complicated when fiction had become fact and accepting it came more easily as time went on - whether she liked it or not. She had, she thought, gone from one dream to another and that surely was the real punishment developed by the Fairy.

Either one, it did not matter. Good Fairy and Bad Fairy became one and the same when you stepped far enough away from the situation.

The dreams which had reassured and soothed now lingered like the strangest private joke. The young queen could not even summon up anger anymore, instead amused at how something designed to shock failed in all aspects. They had been educational, opening her sheltered eyes to an inner truth of her own, and allowed her sleeping mind to explore a possibility never before considered. Of course, she had been aware of the idea; a proper young princess never left alone spent many hours in the company of pretty ladies-in-waiting and her ears and eyes functioned perfectly well.

When two ladies wandered off into the garden and returned an hour later with flushed cheeks and wisping hair, even a very sheltered princess knew the correct assumption to make. But for such a possibility to exist for someone destined for dynastic marriages, to be wooed and won like a fine prize? Unthinkable.

But in those long, endless dreams, she tasted what she had only witnessed and found that it suited her better than any of her mother’s stories of handsome princes one kingdom over. All theoretical, of course, but magic made hypotheses quite trust-worthy. The taste of perfumed skin and the soft flare of a feminine hip, cascading hair and gentle touches - everything to awaken sleeping senses and lift her from the overwrought bower created by her mourning parents. If the Good Fairy gave prophetic gifts in her dreams, then surely her savior would match her new epiphany, the deep calling in her soul. To do otherwise would be cruel.

Good Fairy or Bad Fairy, the awakening clouded the definition. The almost-known face that filled her vision when the fateful moment came was pretty enough but missing the fatal mark left by her desire. The kindness existed and an expression that she could not read properly until she uttered the first words that came to her poor, shell-shocked mind. “Is that you, my prince? You’ve been so long.”

The immediate flush and the shift in his gaze opened her own eyes wide and her twilight lessons inspired sudden clarity. Her next words came more careful and wise, aged with the time she spent with only herself. Thus began their first secret together and the young queen smiled now at the memory as she returned to the welcoming windows opposite her mirror and brushes and paints.

Movement below caught her attention and the queen turned to look and took a step through to the balcony, wondering who had breached the sanctuary of her private garden. A pair of mischievous eyes set in a sweetly freckled face stared unabashedly upwards for a moment before the young lady-in-waiting ducked a curtsy to her queen. Then she took a few steps closer and offered her palms to both sky and queen who laughed softly and leaned further over the railing. An extended hand of her own beckoned and invited further nearness. The redhead smiled more and nodded in response to the wordless entreaty. She moved her hand to cover her heart before mouthing a few simple but eager words.

“Dearest?”

The young queen looked over her shoulder at the sudden intrusive word, eyes reluctantly leaving the vision in the garden below, but she did not bother to hide the smile that curved her rose-petal lips. He knew the meaning and gave her a sheepish, crooked grin of his own. So very little like the great king his subjects saw, she thought, and the private reckoning made their bond all the more reliant and fond. “Yes, darling?”

The endearments came naturally, even when no one was around to witness. She might not have found undying passion in his arms but neither could deny the affection and grateful understanding.

He crossed the room and stood at her side, one hand moving to rest on the balcony railing. His eyes never shifted from her face, though. He moved his hand slightly to cover hers. “I’m going hunting, dearest,” he announced. “The huntsmen tell me of a stag they’ve seen on the far side of the royal park. A large beast with spreading antlers and a deep dark coat and slim legs. I mean to see if I can capture him alive.”

She laughed softly and turned her hand beneath his to tangle their fingers briefly. _Stag_ indeed. “I have every faith that you will succeed,” she answered. “Do you think you’ll be gone long? The rose festival is in a fortnight.”

Her husband took the reminder with a good-natured chuckle and brought the back of her hand to his lips for a fleeting kiss, very nearly court-perfect even in a relaxed moment. “I wouldn’t miss that for the world, wife,” he declared as he straightened. The humor in his eyes made her own smile grow even while he released her hand and took a step back. “The day we met is more than worthy of celebration. A week is too short.”

Then, quite suddenly as he sometimes did, he broke the moment with a wry wink. "Do we only spend a week celebrating freedom?"

"No, you spend the entire year but you do it discretely." She lifted her hand in a fond salute. “Go on with you, husband, and I wish you luck in finding that unparalleled specimen of a stag. I’ll be sure to stay here and behave myself.”

“With a pretty little doe of your own.” He returned her gesture with a low, sweeping bow and offered another knowing smile as he straightened. “To each our own pursuit, my lady wife,” he chuckled. “Though we shall be apart, our beds will not be lonely. I shall return within a few days and, oh, the tales we will share.”

“We shall indeed.” Laughing again, she waved him off and the smile lingered for long moments after the young king had left. Then she turned back to the delicate railing and settled her hands into place. Leaning over the edge, her still-laughing eyes searched amongst the greenery below for her lady. As her darling husband said, her little doe. There were long, lonely hours stretching ahead that could best be filled with conversation and caresses.

He to his stag, she to her doe.

Whatever mischief either Fairy had meant with the combination of endless dreams and shocking reality all came to nothing in the face of a united front of shockingly like minds... and wishes contrary to the kingdom’s storybook designs. Especially given quick tongues and four precious hours of cozy conversation and plotting. Her king might not have been the exact face from her dreams but the obligingly parted thorn wall had not fit his plans either.

The young queen smiled and lifted her hand to beckon the maiden emerging from the bower below into nearness. She to her ladies, he to his gentlemen, and the enchantment-tangled marriage worked most perfectly. Truly and without the Fairies’ blessing, Sleeping Beauty and her Prince and their own secret happily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> * Thank you, Charles Perrault, for the quirky little details in your version. Four hours? Sure, why not?


End file.
